


Music Haunts Her

by Aces_and_Roses



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Mild Gore, Non-Graphic Violence, Slaughter!Melanie, takes place during the flesh attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aces_and_Roses/pseuds/Aces_and_Roses
Summary: There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she couldn’t remember where she had gotten it. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had it, a reassuring weight in her hand.





	Music Haunts Her

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Mind if I cut in?"

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she couldn’t remember where she had gotten it. She was having trouble remembering much at all at that moment - could barely remember her own name in the face of the frenzy within her -so having forgotten something as trivial as where she’d gotten a knife was unsurprising. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had it, a reassuring weight in her hand.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and the blade was already slick with blood. It dripped off the point, the sound of the drops hitting the floor matching that of the racing heartbeat echoing in her ears, providing a steady rhythm for the music pulsing through her head, through her veins. Beyond the music, she heard the crash of a falling shelf behind her and turned to face it, turned to face the _thing_ that had caused it.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she felt a visceral joy as buried it in the thing’s neck, chest, head, anywhere she could reach. She felt the spray of blood on her bare skin with every attack, like warm rain on her face and arms, and it felt _good_. It felt good, so she kept going until the thing fell, kept going until it stopped twitching, kept going until it was more wound than flesh.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she gripped it tightly as she prowled the archives, making her way toward the sound of another of the Flesh’s creatures at the end of the next aisle. She could hear the thumping and dragging noises of the thing pulling itself along the floor but, getting closer, she heard something else. Something quiet, almost inaudible under the sounds the creature made as it moved. The sound of a door opening and closing.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she watched as a woman made of impossible shapes and angles began to tear the creature to shreds with her bare hands. Her hands, long and sharp and twisting and spiralling, cutting and carving the creature, moulding its flesh into something so many sharp angles and smooth spirals, all fitting together in ways that made Melanie’s head hurt.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and something inside her screamed that she couldn’t just let the beautifully impossible woman destroy the creature on her own - Melanie needed to _move_ , to _destroy it_ , to _slaughter it_. Then, she noticed the second creature, looming up behind the woman, who was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t seem to notice it preparing to strike. Melanie lunged forward, moving to the beat of the music she knew that only she could hear and, once she was close enough that she knew it wouldn’t be able to escape, she smiled, growling out “Mind if I cut in?” She laughed, high and shrill, as she drove her knife into the creature’s wrist and severed its hand, which fell off the impossible woman’s shoulder and flopped uselessly to the floor. The creature made an immensely satisfying scream of pain as she pulled the knife out, then drove it back in again, and again, and again.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and the woman turned away from the now impossibly twisted and spiralling pile of flesh in front of her toward Melanie. The woman smiled, a smile that was much too wide for her face, spiralling and twisting away from her. The blood spatters on her face made intricate, entrancing fractal patterns. She offered Melanie her hand, her impossibly long, sharp, twisting, spiralling hand, and said, “Thank you. I am… Helen, I suppose.”

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she switched it to her left hand, reaching out her left to take Helen’s proffered hand. As she did so, Helen’s hand shifted, changed, growing less sharp, so that by the time Melanie made contact Helen’s fingers only left paper cuts in their wake. “Melanie.” Helen’s smile grew impossibly wider, the bloody fractals spiralling and swirling on her face as she did.

There was a knife in Melanie’s hand, and she was face to face with the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at redactedquill, shoot me a prompt if you want!


End file.
